


the acid test of our own sentiments

by rain_sleet_snow



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, well sort of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-07
Updated: 2017-05-07
Packaged: 2018-10-29 02:35:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10844709
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rain_sleet_snow/pseuds/rain_sleet_snow
Summary: Jyn and Cassian have an uncomfortable trip home from Naboo.





	the acid test of our own sentiments

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fic meme on tumblr, for venusmelody, who asked for reluctant cuddling. I hope this hits the spot!

_For another person’s sleep is the acid test of our own sentiments._  
_-Gaudy Night, Dorothy L. Sayers_

 

It had to be said that the shuttle was not a comfortable one. Once, it had been expensively comfortable, all curved padded benches and well-designed white lines, but that had been at least twenty-five years ago. Now it was showing its age, and while the price of the flight was correspondingly lower, it was also more crowded and shabbier. The white walls were scuffed and marked, the upholstery redone in a cheaper fabric and mended since, and there were probably three times the passengers accommodated than there had been before. The trip to Hastil IX was, conservatively, two days, and at least a night would be spent on this shuttle before they changed at Bestine. Jyn and Cassian had been allocated approximately one and a half seats, or nearly all of a corner, for this time, and the shuttle was stiflingly warm even though they hadn't got off the ground yet. Probably the coolant systems had been updated at the same time as the upholstery, and someone had done just as bad a job.

It didn't exactly live up to the brochure. Jyn said so, in rather more pungent language, and stamped off to complain to the booking agent who had scanned their tickets at the entrance.

"Yes, sweetheart," Cassian called after her, smiling appeasingly at the space steward looking at them with raised eyebrows, and stowing the two small cabin bags they had brought under their unacceptable seat.

He heard the distinctive sound of Jyn refraining from a snort. She was always defensive about endearments in Basic, but this assignment required them.

The steward smiled back at Cassian. "Newlyweds?"

Cassian rubbed his thumb over the false platinum ring on his fourth finger like he was trying to get used to it, which was a lie. He'd been accustomed to its presence, and comfortable with it, from almost the moment he put it on. "Yes," he said. "Three weeks."

The steward's smile widened. "You must have been on your honeymoon, then. Naboo - how beautiful."

"Stunning," Cassian confirmed, though he and Jyn had actually been there for the intelligence collected directly under Palpatine's nose by a group of wealthy, well-brought-up fortysomething women who had once been handmaidens of a Queen of Naboo, and were now some of the Rebellion's most fearless and tenacious agents. The first time Cassian had met one she'd told him to wipe that smudge off his nose and stand up straight when he talked to her, which had been remarkable, given that Cassian had been about to kill her at the time. "The sunsets really are as gorgeous as everyone says. And I'd never seen a beach in real life before, so -"

The steward was nodding sagely. "Nowhere better."

"That's what we were told." Cassian glanced over his shoulder. Jyn had located the booking agent, and was now listening to a spiel with her hands propped on her hips and scepticism in every line of her body. After a moment, she gave a sharp nod and then began to speak, with a few emphatic gestures that made the light catch on her own ring. She flicked her hair over her shoulder, uncharacteristically loose and uncharacteristically long, with dye in it to make it light and some chemical curl in it to make it softly wavy.

Maybe Cassian stared for a little too long.

"You're adorable," the steward said, plainly delighted. "How long have you been together?"

"Four years," Cassian said - and it wasn't true, no, Jyn had only been part of his life for two years; but it felt like she'd always been part of his life, and that fit with Eon and Alis, who had known each other for six years, and dated for four.

"They should have given you a special deal."

"They did on the way out." Cassian shrugged. "It was too expensive for the way back."

The steward nodded understandingly. "Shame. Still, we'll see what we can do."

"If you could," Cassian said apologetically. "Alis - she doesn't like to be cooped up."

The steward grimaced sympathetically. "Where are you headed?"

"Hastil IX, so it'll be a while." Cassian let his eyes drift back to Jyn; she had her arms folded and was listening to the booking agent with a scowl of legendary proportions.

The steward frowned. "That's... I don't know it?"

"It's a space station," Cassian explained. "In the Western Reaches. We had a shared posting on Tofeta, near Dantooine, but - it's easier to get jobs together if you're married, you know? And Alis..." He shrugged, thought of the way that Jyn stepped into his orbit and held her head high among the Alliance and cut through a crowd of stormtroopers, and let all of that seep into his smile. "I'm never going to meet another sentient like Alis."

"She's a lucky woman," the steward said gently. He glanced at Jyn, whose unimpressed face spoke for itself, and raised his eyebrows. "I hope for your sake she likes space."

"Well," Cassian demurred, obscurely annoyed. "Her job pays more than mine does. So she gets a better one, we move."

The steward nodded. "As you should," he said, and smiled at Cassian. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to make you more comfortable."

  
In fairness, Cassian thought later, the steward did his best. They got complimentary glasses of sparkling wine and sweet things with their meal, a steady stream of bottles of water, and a small fan to try to keep them cool when Jyn looked uncomfortably sweaty. There was barely room for them to sit together; their thighs pressed together in a way that would have been tantalising at any other time, but that was unbearable in the shuttle's sticky heat. It was so poorly cooled that half the shuttle stripped down to the minimal clothing acceptable by the time they were three hours in, and Cassian and Jyn took it in turns to sit in the meagre space set out for them. Cassian sat at Jyn's feet, let his head loll against her knee, and didn't have to hide how much he enjoyed her fingers running through his short hair; Jyn paced, falling into a combination of her own native impatience and Alis's restlessness, and Cassian watched her move under hooded eyelids.

Four and a half hours in, the lights were dimmed, and Jyn was still prowling the edges of the shuttle.

"Sweetheart," Cassian said, and it was a real effort not to say _querida_. "Come on. We have another five hours. Let's get some sleep."

"I'm too hot," Jyn said. She'd kept Alis's accent - similar to the Lah'mu she'd grown up with, at least for the last half of her childhood, but with softer edges.

"Tie your hair up and have some more water," Cassian said, very practically.

"Ugh," Jyn said, and collapsed into a neat pile at his feet, pulling a hair tie from her wrist. On a moment's inspiration, Cassian took it from her.

He knew by her stillness that she was surprised, though she was aware he could braid a little, messily. She shivered slightly, well-concealed, as he gathered her hair into a simple, careful plait, fingers combing light through her hair, nails scratching gently over her scalp and laid it over her shoulder.

"You're good at that," Jyn murmured, and Cassian hummed a thank-you.

Jyn rested her head against his bent knees for a moment longer, and he leant forward and kissed the crown of her head, his fingers still resting lightly against the curve of her skull by her ears.

Jyn let out a long sigh, then stood, and peeled off the filmy gathered overshirt she was wearing over her cropped tank-top; then she sat down next to him, shirt caught loosely in one hand. Cassian saw its silvery fabric only as a shadow running through her fist, and his breath came short. He'd bought it for her; cheap, fake material from a tourist stall on Naboo, not real watersilk, and he'd done up the pearly buttons at the high collar for her. She looked so beautiful in it Cassian's mouth went dry every time he saw her wearing it, the way it draped over her, and it drove her mad because she couldn't hide knives under it.

Cassian shifted his weight onto his side and rested one arm along the back of the seat. "Here, Ally," he said, and if his voice came out a little lower and rougher than usual nobody was going to hear. "There's room."

"Mm," Jyn said, and shifted onto her side as well, bringing her knees up onto the seat, leaning her head on her crumpled-up shirt and Cassian's arm. They tried not to touch, for the sake of not boiling alive, but there was simply no space, and despite the layers between them, Cassian felt the heat of her skull resting against his skin. "Wake me up when we get somewhere sane, Eon."

"Sure," Cassian murmured, toying with the end of her braid with his free hand. He dropped a kiss on the end of her nose, and she smiled reflexively, eyes already closed.

He meant to stay awake, take a first sentry duty they hadn't organised and watch Jyn's lashes flickering over her cheeks, her chest steadily rising and falling, but he woke some hours later to a tinny announcement over the tannoy and Jyn in his arms, sticky with heat.

"Oops," she murmured, low and scratchy with thirst and sleep.

"Sorry," Cassian whispered back. His shirt was soaked with sweat and Jyn was like a furnace; the entire shuttle was stirring and complaining. Still he didn't let go - and still he didn't want to.

"Don't be sorry," Jyn murmured, and stole a kiss from his dry, chapped lips.

  
The fully functional air conditioning on their exfiltration by the Millennium Falcon came as a terrible shock. Han complained for weeks that they wouldn't even peel themselves out of their mountain of blankets for a chat.

"If you had Cassian Andor in your bed you'd never leave it," Jyn said brusquely, collecting a round of toast and hot drinks, and - when Han snorted explosively - corrected herself: "Okay... So for you, I suppose, Luke Skywalker. Or the Princess. Or both. At once."

Han flushed bright red, and Jyn laughed so hard all the way back to her bunk and Cassian in it that she spilled the drinks.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr at [ rain-sleet-snow](https://rain-sleet-snow.tumblr.com/). Come and say hi! :)


End file.
